


The World’s Greatest Detective

by jaredlearnedtoread



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Its very graphic, Other, Possibly OOC, Self-Harm, graphic depictions of self harm, im serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaredlearnedtoread/pseuds/jaredlearnedtoread
Summary: The worlds greatest detective is eleven and lives on the moon. He’s going through some things.
Relationships: Angus McDonald & Taako, No Romantic Relationships - Relationship, The Director | Lucretia & Angus McDonald
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	The World’s Greatest Detective

**Author's Note:**

> I know it’s stated very clearly in the tags and also probably why you clicked on it but you just in case I’m going to say again that this is about self harm and doesn’t get better until near the end. If this is potentially a trigger then please don’t read it. 
> 
> Also if anyone has any other title suggestions I’m open to changing it, I forgot to plan a title lmao.

He doesn’t mean to cut, but he’s been feeling shitty all day. He can’t seem to connect the dots with his latest mystery, and he’s been too fidgety to be able to read anything, further souring his mood. 

The walk from the library to his room isn’t a long one, and he had hoped to move quickly to avoid conversation. But Taako is there, taking up the whole hallway, making it impossible to go around him. Angus tries to turn back, but Taako sees him, and then it’s too late. “Hey Agnes, where are you going?” He looks suspicious, and Angus really isn’t in the mood to deal with Taako’s bullshit today. 

He balls his hands into fists, fingernails digging into his palms to keep from bursting into tears on the spot. It shouldn’t matter, it’s just a nickname, nothing compared to all of the pranks, but it still hurts. Angus fixes his face quickly, hoping he looks normal. “Just to my room, Sir!” He smiles, trying to keep up his usual amount of energy. “Isn’t it a little early for that?” Taako’s right, the sun’s just beginning to set, but he’s too tired and wound up to think of a good excuse. He’s never been great at lying. Angus pushes past him and turns the corner, not trusting himself to hold the façade any longer.

A tear slips down his cheek, but by then he’s already thrown open the door, making sure to lock it behind him before letting go and allowing himself to finally cry. It’s short and unsatisfying and soon he’s just as pent up as he was before. Angus slams a fist down in an act of poorly controlled frustration, only getting more agitated when it bounces harmlessly off of the bed. Then, as quickly as it arrived, his energy is gone again, his anger fading back into exhaustion. He flops back down onto the mattress, newly devoid of energy. 

Angus lays there for a while, only moving to kick off his shoes. There’s two knocks on the door, but his light is off, and whoever’s on the other side assumes he’s asleep and eventually goes away. When he does get up, it’s dark and quiet outside; most people have gone to bed, and the rest have retired to their own homes. 

Before he can think it through, Angus snatches up his favorite detective novel and almost drops it trying to get to the razor hidden underneath the thin pages. It’s nestled between the spine and cover of the book, and he has to stretch the book's stitches to get it out, nearly ripping the flimsy paperback in half. 

The book is tossed aside, landing softly on a pile of laundry Angus swore he would do days ago, but he makes sure to hold onto the razor firmly, stumbling back towards his bed in the dark. He’s never been able to see well, his glasses are proof of that, but it doesn’t matter much now. He pulls his shorts down enough to reach the tops of his thighs, and makes two quick cuts. Careful to not cross over the other cuts, Angus continues until the numbness turns into content, focusing only on the little stings he gets from each wound. The razor falls somewhere on the bed next to him, and he leans against the wall, breaths slowing until the adrenaline wears off.

Angus covers the still bleeding cuts half heartedly with his pants, hoping the blood doesn’t stain them while he makes his way to the bathroom. It’s a few doors down, but the rooms next to him are empty, and the chance of anyone running into him at this time of night is low. 

The bathroom light is impossibly bright, but the sudden change wakes him up, making him more alert. The first aid kit is where it always is under the sink, and Angus sets it on the counter, flipping open the lid. Next, his sweater comes off, then his pants so that he’s left in boxers and a shirt, scars and cuts out in the open. 

Angus has more scars than an eleven year old boy should have. There’s jagged ones on his arms, self inflicted from when he was seven and still clumsy with a knife. There’s shaky, uncertain ones on his stomach from when he was a little older, and found that he could dismantle his pencil sharpener for a better, smaller, blade. Then there’s the cluster on his legs, the reason he refuses to wear shorts above the knee, with the new additions still bleeding over them. 

Not all of his scars are from his own hand, and Angus doesn’t know how to feel about those, so he ignores them. He ignores the small burn scar from training that faded quickly, and the diagonal cut on his wrist from a failed attempt at catching a thief, and others he can’t seem to remember littered about carelessly all over. 

He hasn’t had a good look at his cuts until now, and he freezes when he sees them up close, staring with wide eyes. Angus has had accidents before, has cut too deep and needed outside help to heal the wound, but he knows his limits by now. Or at least, Angus thought he did. Blood oozes lazily out and onto the tile below from a gaping cut. The others aren’t as bad, they only scab over, but this one needs stitches. 

Angus turns to the first aid kit, pushing aside the band aids and neosporin and wipes but there’s nothing that would help to close the wound, no thread, no needle, no staples. His breathing speeds up and he rifles through it again just to make sure, he tells himself, but there’s nothing. He considers trying magic, but Taako hasn’t taught him any healing spells; Angus isn’t sure Taako even knows any. Instead he casts mage hand, and holds the cut closed while he cleans up everything else.

A tap on the bathroom door makes him freeze up again, and stays as quiet as possible to make sure he’s not just hearing things. Another, louder knock follows shortly after and the panic Angus has managed to keep at bay until now all rushes to get out, turning his stomach. 

“Angus?”  
The voice is Lucretia’s, and is laced with concern.  
“Are you ok?”  
She looks down at her slipper clad feet, making sure to avoid the drops of blood on the ground next to her. They make a shaky trail from Angus’ room to the bathroom, and she wouldn’t even have seen them except for the sliver of light escaping through the gap between the door of the bathroom and the floor. Her mind immediately goes to the worst outcome when Angus doesn’t respond, but she can hear his uneven breathing through the door, so at least she knows he’s alive.

Lucretia tries the knob to find it unlocked, and tentatively pushes open the door.  
“Angus?” She repeats, softer this time. He’s tucked into a corner of the bathroom, staring intently at a spot on the floor. He’s leaning forward with an arm over his legs to preserve what Lucretia thinks at first to be modesty only to see the bloodied wipe in the fist of his other hand. She connects the dots quickly and immediately drops down next to him.

There’s still blood dripping down his legs, so Lucretia moves his arm to see the damage. It’s worse than she thought, but nothing immediately life threatening. His wounds close with a spell that seems to snap Angus out of it, and suddenly he jerks, bringing his knees to his chest.  
“Did you do this?” Lucretia asks. She gets a shaky nod in response and Angus opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but closes it instead. 

“How long have you… has this been happening?”  
Angus just shrugs. Lucretias never been very good at reassurance or comfort, but she risks an awkward hand on his shoulder that turns into a one sided hug. It’s clear he’s not in a state to talk, so Lucretia takes him to her office instead. 

It’s not a long walk, but it feels like forever. Lucretia sets up a cot for him in her office and assures him she’ll be only one room away. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” She assures him, then pecks him on the forehead like he’s eight and leaves, not fully closing the door. There’s probably something sharp in her office, but Angus dismisses that train of thought and tries to fall asleep instead; cutting right now would only make things worse, even if it is what he thinks he needs. Instead, he sleeps. 

There’s light filtering in through the windows and a quiet murmur of talking when Angus wakes up. He wipes his eyes and grabs blindly for his glasses until he remembers where he is. The events of last night leave a bad taste in his mouth and fill him with anxiety. But he only wants to deal with one thing at a time, so Angus pushes those feelings aside and stands up to get his glasses. 

The door creaks open before he can get to it, and a blurry figure steps in. It hands him his glasses, and he puts them on to see a worried looking Taako. Fuck.  
His annoyance must show on his face, because Taako looks away guiltily. “Look, I know you don’t want to talk-”  
“I don’t.”  
Angus cuts him off coldly. Taako has no right to look concerned, he’s already pissed at Lucretia for walking in on him, but now she’s telling people. The moon isn’t very big, if she’s told Taako then she’s probably told Magnus and Merle, and at that point why not stop there? Even if she only told those three, information gets around the station quickly enough on its own, and he’s sure that they’ve all been talking about it freely. It’s not like they respect him, he’s just some kid.

Even so, Angus doesn’t want to leave the Moon. He’s got a good home here, and now that his grandpa is dead and he effectively doesn’t exist anymore, it’s the only place he has. But it’s not an option to stay now that they know. He knows they only tolerated him because he knew too much. And now that he’s not only another mouth to feed, but also another problem to take care of, they won’t want him. Who would?

Angus waits by the bed while Taako decides how to respond, blocking his exit. He could use a window, but that would be dramatic, and Angus plans to go quietly. Taako steps fully into the room, walking until he’s only a few feet away. If the cot wasn’t in the way, Angus would try to back up.  
“Angus, Lucretia told me what she saw.”  
He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. No shit. But that doesn’t stop him from noticing the fact that Taako used his actual name. Taako never does that.  
“She told me because I know what it’s like.”  
This makes Angus look up to meet his eyes. Taako doesn’t seem to be lying. He pulls up the hem of his shirt to prove it, and sure enough, there are scars. They’ve faded, but still stick out against his pale skin. He lets his shirt drop again, and sits on the cot, motioning for Angus to join him. 

“I know you don’t want to talk, but we’re worried. I know how this goes, I know it just gets worse, and we have to talk about it.” Taako isn’t great at talking about it either, but he seems to be trying.  
“How long have you been cutting?”  
He says bluntly.  
“I don’t know.”  
It’s not a lie, but it’s also not the truth, and Taako can tell.  
“Angus.”  
Taako doesn’t sound mad or annoyed or even disappointed, he sounds concerned. When Angus looks at him, he can see the worry, can see how he’s not too close to crying, but how Taako’s eyes are wetter than they should be. Angus breaks. 

He starts crying, then the crying turns into ugly sobbing, then he has to take off his glasses because he can’t see and his nose is runny and gross. Taako offers up his arms and Angus falls into them, burying his face into Taako’s shoulder. And Taako lets him. In fact he doesn’t just let him, he holds Angus almost as tightly as he is, rubbing comforting circles into his back.  
“We love you, Pumpkin. We’re- we’re gonna help you get better, ok?”  
Angus nods into Taako’s shoulder, and for the first time since he can remember, allows himself to trust that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> This isn’t proofread or edited, so I apologize for the mistakes, most of it was written between 2-4 am.


End file.
